


A thin gulf

by lucyisalive



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Fluff and Angst, Forcefield Related Pining, M/M, Medical Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyisalive/pseuds/lucyisalive
Summary: Paul is exposed to an unknown, potentially dangerous substance on an away mission and has to go into medical quarantine. Three days in, Paul and Hugh are coping less well than they'd like the other to think.





	A thin gulf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolfchasing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchasing/gifts).



> A very short lil' thing I wrote as a birthday present for @wolfchasing. Happy birthday! 
> 
> (Also this is unbeta'd, sorry for any mistakes)

For someone who spent a considerable portion of his time willingly locked away in his lab, it turned out Paul Stamets wasn’t someone who coped well with forced isolation. Although he usually wouldn’t have the added stress of possible imminent death by alien pollen to worry about.

And really, death was just at the top of a very long list of worries. Paul knew the kind of bizarre shit people in Starfleet got themselves into when they were exposed to unknown substances on away missions. For all he knew he’d wake up tomorrow with antlers sprouting out of his head.

Still, Starfleet quarantine procedures weren’t so bad. The force-field around his bed could be adjusted to be opaque, for when he needed privacy, or transparent, for when he needed the sight of other humans to stop himself from going mad. Just being able to watch the normal comings and goings of sickbay helped relieve some of the boredom, helped him feel like he was still part of the ship and not completely isolated.

For three days he’d tried to make the best of it. He’d tried to work on the spore drive remotely. He’d spent hours shamelessly staring at Hugh, enjoying the rare pleasure of watching his brilliant and highly competent partner doing the work he loved. He’d watched as Doctor Pollard’s face had gone from concerned to cautiously hopeful as the days passed without Paul experiencing any noticeable effects from whatever unknown pollen he’d been exposed to on the planet.

But still, three days without physical human contact was starting to wear at him. Paul was officially diagnosing himself with touch-starvation and cabin fever, conditions he’d never thought would bother him so much.

What had happened to him? He was pretty sure that when he was writing his second thesis, he’d practically spent three months locked away writing, without the sight of another human, and it hadn’t bothered him in the slightest. What happened to that guy?

_He became an idiot who made friends, fell in love, and began to rely on other people. That’s what happened to you, genius._

“You look dangerously introspective.”

Paul was jolted out his thoughts by the voice of his partner. He glanced up at the side of his quarantine chamber to see Hugh smiling down at him.

“Is that a medical opinion, doctor?”

“That’s an opinion from your partner who loves you and is tired of seeing you look glum for three days straight.”

“I am not _glum_. I am _bored._ ”

“You know, most people would find a way to make the most of mandatory rest. You could read a book, listen to opera, learn to speak Kilngon. You might even consider catching up on this biological function we call _sleep._ ”

“I don’t want to sleep anymore,” Paul grumbled. “I want to work on my spore drive. Walk through my mycelium forest. Have lunch with Tilly and Michael. Spend the evenings with you.”

“Well I’m glad I featured in there somewhere.”

“I mean it Hugh! I would genuinely rather go with you on one of your absurd 10k runs around the ship than spend another second locked up here.”

Hugh raised an eyebrow. “You want to go running? Your condition must be worse than I thought. This calls for drastic measures,” he deadpanned.

“Do those drastic measures involve breaking me out of this prison? Because if so, I am on board.”

For all his grumbling, it was unnecessary to explain to Paul why he had to remain in quarantine. He knew that lives could be at risk if he exposed whatever he’d picked up in that planet to the rest of the crew. Of course, quarantine would do nothing to protect Paul, if the pollen turned out to be dangerous. He had already been exposed. He was still in danger. He could still die.

Paul watched Hugh sigh and then flick his eyes up to the readings on the monitor above Paul’s head. He was clearly trying to make it seem like professional interest, but Paul knew he was doing it to reassure himself that there was no change, that Paul was still okay.

Hugh had been doing this for three days. He’d clearly been trying so hard to remain calm throughout Paul’s period of forced isolation. Paul had been waiting for Hugh to open up about how he was really feeling, but so far, his partner had kept a tight lid on himself. He was probably doing if for Paul’s sake. Idiot.

Kicking his feet over the side of the bed, Paul sat up, facing Hugh.

“I know that you’ve been deflecting your anxiety with sarcasm, dear doctor,” Paul said, deciding not to beat around the bush.

“So have you,” Hugh retorted.

“Yeah, I know, you probably learned it from me actually. My bad habits are rubbing off on you.” Paul leaned forward, placing his hand on the side of the force-field, and spoke gently. “Hugh. How are you doing? Really?”

Paul watched as the calm, professional demeanour that Hugh had been putting on for three days slowly melted away from his eyes. He gazed back into Paul’s unwavering stare for a few moments, before sighing and raising his hand to meet Paul’s on the other side of the force-field.

“I’m worried about you,” he finally quietly confessed. “And I miss you.”

Paul grimaced slightly. “We’re probably seeing more of each other than we normally do,” he said, feeling a familiar stab of guilt in the process.

“Maybe. But I miss you most at night.” Hugh hesitated for a few moments before continuing. “I’ve been having nightmares again,” he admitted quietly.

Paul’s face fell in concern. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he gently reprimanded. He thought back with little fondness to the seemingly endless nights when Hugh would wake up shaking, freshly remembering the details of his own experience with death. He’d been getting better, especially since he’d moved back in.

“You’ve had enough to worry about the past few days,” Hugh answered softly.

“You’re worries _are_ my worries Hugh. We’re partners, remember. In sickness and in health.”

“Yeah,” said Hugh, smiling slightly, “that goes both ways you know? How are _you_ doing Paul?”

Paul matched his partner’s smile. “Turnabout is fair play, I suppose. I’m feeling better than I was three days ago. I’ll admit that I was struggling not to panic when they first put me in quarantine but… it’s looking more and more that there’s nothing to worry about. If there was a danger… I’m sure Doctor Pollard would have found it by now.”

“Yeah,” Hugh said, releasing a held in breath, “but I’ll feel better when that pollen is confirmed not to be dangerous.”

Paul nodded and looked down to where his and Hugh’s hands were still pressed together. The force-field wall was so thin that it looked like they really were touching. If he tried really hard, Paul could almost imagine that they were, that the slight tingling he felt under his palm was his natural reaction to Hugh’s touch, and not the electromagnetic field. He could almost imagine the feel of Hugh’s hand against his own, the smooth, well-cared for skin, so much less rough than Paul’s own, so much stronger too…

“We’ll get you out of there Paul,” Hugh said softly. “Soon.”

Paul smiled weakly. “I know dear doctor, I know. Just not soon enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> Who has two thumbs and is incapable of ending a story without angst? *points at self* THIS GIRL.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed regardless. Please leave kudos/comments, they give me that sweet sweet serotonin in my brain.
> 
> You can find me on twitter/tumblr @lucyisalive


End file.
